


Stand Down

by Creed Cascade (creedcascade)



Category: Tour of Duty (1987)
Genre: Hidden Relationship, Homecoming, M/M, Military, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27658322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creedcascade/pseuds/Creed%20Cascade
Summary: Myron comes home to Zeke after getting stateside from the Vietnam War.
Relationships: Zeke Anderson/Myron Goldman
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Stand Down

A lone soldier stood on the front porch in his dress uniform. His eyes were downcast and cheeks darkened with stubble. 

Hinges creamed as the door opened slowly. 

“Hey, LT,” Zeke greeted softly.

Zeke automatically took in the perimeter, seeking unfriendlies in the form of prying eyes. Myron responded to the habit unconsciously with a shake of his head.

“You came straight here?” Zeke asked.

Myron nodded curtly and shifted foot-to-foot. He hadn’t knocked on the door upon arrival but the door had opened none-the-less. 

Zeke pushed the door open even more. A ruck sack with M. GOLDMAN stencilled on the side was slung over his shoulder. In Myron’s free hand was was clutched a crinkled postcard. The ink was smudged but the words was still legible. An address. This address. 

Zeke reached out and grabbed Myron’s bag, pulling him over the threshold. Myron’s shoulders were tense and his knuckles were tight where he grasped the shoulder strap.

“C’mon in,” Zeke said, his tone low and calm, almost a whisper. Zeke tugged on the bag again pulling Myron fully inside. 

“Easy now...”

“Anderson...” Myron’s voice cracked from the strain. 

“I’m here,” Zeke soothed. 

Zeke closed the door and Myron backed himself against it. Zeke had to pry Myron’s fingers from the bag strap and let the bag drop onto the floor. Zeke crowded Myron against the door, pressing in close and now trapping Myron in the cage of his arms. 

“Are there...”

“No,” Zeke said. “Just you. Only you.”

He pressed solidly again Myron, chest to chest. Zeke rested his forehead on Myron’s own. Their breath mingled and Myron closed his eyes, squeezing them shut tightly. 

“Zeke,” Myron said. 

One word. His tone pained. 

Myron dropped the tattered postcard and it flittered onto the ground. He grabbed Zeke’s shirt, his fingers fisting into the fabric. Zeke’s palms came up to frame Myron’s stubbles cheeks. His thumb caressed the dark circle on under Myron’s eye. The tension left Myron’s body and his shoulders slumped.

“Stand down,” Zeke said softly urged. “I’m here.”

They shifted slowly as Zeke moved his head just slightly. Just enough to run his lips over Myron’s cheek down to his chapped lips. The kiss was light at first... an invitation. Myron didn’t responded at first, then took a shuddering, deep breath. Zeke started to pull away, but Myron pulled him back and reinitiated the kiss. The kiss was uncoordinated and desperate. Myron kept kissing Zeke until he was short of breath. Zeke gentled the kiss until they were both breathing heavily, foreheads resting together. 

“We made it,” Zeke whispered.

Myron’s was choked sob he tried to hide. Zeke made soothing sounds under his breath. Myron’s legs started to give out and Zeke took the weight, easing them down onto to the floor. 

They sat on the floor, clutching at each other. Myron’s head came to rest on Zeke’s shoulder and his breathing to ease. Zeke held him close with one arm wrapped around his waist and the other rested on the back of Myron’s neck, thumb caressing the nape of his short cropped hair. 

Zeke gently kissed Myron’s cheek. 

“Welcome home, LT,” Zeke said. “Welcome home.”


End file.
